Degrees of Cathie SOLSC 25

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I have absolutely no idea how many degrees of separation there are between Kevin Bacon and me. No idea whatsoever. That said, I do have a positive recollection of him in Footloose all those years ago. Truth be told, that positivity could be because of my date (high school, tons of nervous energy, 35 year-old memory, blurred, blurred, blurred), but I can’t be sure.

Today is a bumming around town kind of day. A few errands, a cup of coffee with my favorite mermaid, and–and this is a treat–a stop by Lowe Mill. I live near Huntsville, Alabama, which is home to what is reportedly the largest community of artists in the United States. The building itself is a renovated textile mill (yes, I do live way down yonder in the land of cotton) that has been divided into a hundred or so studios for artists of all stripes. Potters, painters, jewelers, printers, carvers, stained glassers, weavers, cabinet makers: It’s an incredible place. I get here when I can. Given that I live a whopping 25 minutes away, the regularity of my trips is depressingly low, but I love it when I can get here (I’m writing this, by the way, in a non-Seattle-based coffee shop located on the second floor of the Mill, fueled by what is probably more caffeine than my cardiologist would recommend).

Tim, what does this have to do with Kevin Bacon? Nothing, I don’t even know the guy.

I do, however, know Cathie. Cathie is a wonderful person who is probably the most understated, laid-back, ball of energy that I’ve ever known. She wears a number of hats with the local Land Trust, each of which takes her out into the community spreading the gospel of conservation and stewardship. Cathie knows people. Not in the I’m-important-and-I-can-show-you-by-dropping-names kind of way, but in a good way. The kind of way that even has her knowing people like me.

Shortly after walking into the Mill, I headed up to the second floor after a quick lap around the first. I was plodding up the stairs (dimly lit, concrete steps, smells vaguely of urine–no idea why) when I became aware of someone on the landing above me. Cathie. Did I mention that she’s connected with the art community as well? Just another reason to love her.

She wasn’t alone, and quickly introduced me to her friend Martha. After a flurry of conversation–a quick flurry, but a flurry nonetheless…did I mention the smell?–in which Martha and I learned we had more in common than just Cathie, I headed back down the steps to Cathie’s studio. Okay, it’s technically her daughter’s studio, but that has no relevance to this story…kind of like Kevin Bacon.

Degrees of Cathie. As I mentioned earlier, friends of Cathie so often find that they have more than a little in common with each other, and I’m always the better for meeting one of them. Martha, it turns out, was once a third grade teacher, just like me. She’s also a writer, albeit one significantly more recognizable and published than me. She loves nature–hey, just like me. She even has a husband named Tim, just like me! Actually, I don’t have a husband named Tim, but my wife does. Good people, she is, to use the cliche.

After a half hour of lively conversation filled with wonderfully scenic rabbit trails, I gave my regards and left them to whatever business brought them here today. It’s a bumming around kind of day for me, but it’s turned out to be one of the best kind. Spring weather, coffee (just one more cup, please), a trip to the Mill, and thirty minutes of good conversation with friends old and new. All things considered, I couldn’t ask for more.


By the way, if you have no idea what I was talking about in my first paragraph, look up “Degrees of Kevin Bacon.” Fascinating, in a pop culture sort of way.

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